Hot Dish Review

New York Prime is the kind of restaurant where everything is colossal. Men with huge egos smoke big fat cigars and flirt with women whose massive implants have hardened with age. It’s a steakhouse built upon the American concept that says “bigger is better”.

LC and I stopped in to mingle with some business associates recently. I ordered a real martini with Bombay Sapphire much to the surprise of the bartender. What, no chardonnay little lady? No dude. And a sidecar is not a glass of ice. LC ordered his standard vodka martini with blue cheese stuffed olives. Neither of us had eaten dinner and we were getting a bit famished, tempting plates of enormous shrimp and colossal onion rings within arms reach. Sadly, they belonged to someone else.

There were only a few appetizers to choose from, so we ordered the shrimp and the lump crab, both served chilled with cocktail sauce and a housemade remoulade. A succulent snack, but not quite dinner. Another martini, please.

A quick peek at the menu revealed a selection of steaks and sides including a porterhouse for two (40 oz.) for $99.50. The one pound loaded baked potato described as “giant” is the obvious choice for a side. I chuckled.

New York Prime is a smoky man cave, a place where they conduct business when not on the golf course. As I stole another shrimp from an unsuspecting businessman’s plate, sucking the sauce off inch by inch, I wondered….is bigger always better? Indeed, most of the time it is.

3424 Peachtree Road 404-846-0644

I’m a food snob, so it will come as no surprise that I try to avoid chains much like I avoid sick people and crying babies. I cringe at the thought of thousands of containers of “product” distributed to restaurants nationwide, containing identicle crab cakes, egg rolls, frozen cheesecakes.

But sometimes dining at a chain is unavoidable, like at a recent business dinner. The location was negotiated based upon accessibility to the interstate (nearly always a bad sign), and its proximity to all guests.

Don’t get me wrong, I love some chains, like the much maligned Krystals and the simple yet delicious Wendy’s. Fast food chains, however, are a necessity of life, filling a literal void on grueling road trips, providing a consistant product whether you’re in New York City or smalltown USA.

Pappadeaux, and other concept chains, are another story. They thrive on tired themes that appeal to (you guessed it) middle America. LC and I pulled up to the huge stand-alone building, its sprawling deck awaiting warmer weather, decorated with copious neon signs lighting the way to a smorgasbord of Cajun and Creole seafood favorites. At least it’s a theme I like.

Jambalaya, etouffee, and gumbo anchor an extensive menu of every kind of seafood, all available fried, broiled, blackened, steamed, or grilled. Several creative, and caloric, specialties caught my attention, like the Texas redfish, grilled with Maine lobster, avocado, sauteed spinach, and roasted tomatoes in a white wine lemon butter sauce. Another paired grilled jumbo scallops and shrimp with mushroom risotto, spinach, and herb butter. That’s what LC ordered for his entree.

The organizer of the dinner had mentioned martinis and lobster earlier in the day and I was having a hard time steering away from either one, but first, I was intent on having something Cajun. So I talked LC into splitting a bowl of Louisiana style seafood gumbo. We requested hot sauce on the side, fully expecting the soup to be pretty mild. And it was….until we added the hot sauce. But the bowl did contain copious amounts of crab meat, shrimp, and oysters, plus a few chunks of tomato and okra.

Everyone was drinking martinis, mine being the only real one, made with Bombay Sapphire. I ordered my lobster grilled but didn’t care for the mashed red potatoes and broccolini sides that came with it, so I switched them for onion rings and spaghetti squash.

There’s a fine line between under and overcooked lobster, and Pappadeaux unfortunately crossed it. My crustacean was a bit chewy, but had a nice grilled flavor. The stringy texture of the spaghetti squash didn’t appeal and my onion rings never showed up….a blessing in disguise. I was hoping they would offer a comp’d dessert to make up for the snafu….and they did!

LC’s dish was tasty, although there was no hint of New Orleans on the plate. Meanwhile, martinis were being delivered to our table at a furious pace, adding fuel to the boisterous banter.

On cue, our patient server brought out the tray of desserts, each one enough to serve four. I chose the bread pudding, of course. A couple of cheesecakes and a chocolate cake joined the fattening fray. Made with apples and raisins and resting in a pool of creme Anglaise, it was not overly sweet. I was pleased with my selection.

Pappadeaux’ menu states that the seafood is fresh, as in not frozen, as in “swimming yesterday”. Not bad for a chain. I bet the place will be crawling with crawfish and Carnival revelers soon!

5635 Jimmy Carter Blvd. 770-849-0600

I don’t get out much….out of the city, that is. But recently, LC and I had the pleasure of dining out with his cousin and his wife in their neck of the woods.

It’s not that I think restaurants in the suburbs are inferior, it’s simply a matter of convenience, or inconvenience. When there are an abundance of intown restaurants that fulfill my culinary cravings, why drive thirty miles? Especially when one might have a drink….or two.

Nevertheless, there we were, in Marietta, going to one of their neighborhood favorites, The Paper Mill Grill. The space was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and wood furnishings. Seated in a cozy booth, we started off with a round of various martinis, from peach to good old fashioned gin. We were particularly fond of the fish bowl placed on the shelf that separated us from the booth next door, but the colorful beta didn’t move….until we tapped the glass. He’s alive!

All of us were starving, so we ordered two flatbread appetizers and zucchini fries. The latter were especially greasy and didn’t warrant more than one bite. Of the two flatbreads, one was the special with smoked salmon, capers, and onions. Not so special. The other, however, was super delicious, topped with fig preserves, blue cheese, bacon and grapes. It’s a combination that could have been cloyingly sweet if poorly executed, but instead, was perfectly balanced.

LC’s cousin is as predictable as sunburns in Summer. He always, and I mean always, orders shrimp and grits if it is on the menu. He cleaned his plate. Despite having salmon on one of our appetizers, LC wanted more of the pink fish, this time grilled and served on a pool of creamed corn risotto. He too cleaned his plate.

Us chicks chose salads. L ordered the blackened grouper baby blue salad, an enourmous dinner portion of chopped veggies, strawberries, walnuts and blue cheese, with balsamic vinaigrette. I tried the warm spinach salad with grilled chicken breast, smoked bacon, avocado, chopped egg, and mushrooms with a warm apple bacon vinaigrette. All you have to say is bacon and avocado and I’m in….talk about predictable. Chewy bacon, fresh avocado, tender chicken and….(surprise!) blue cheese….yes, it was awesome.

No room for dessert other than the liquid variety. We sipped our last martinis while listening to the guy playing acoustic guitar in the bar area. Too bad Paper Mill Grill is in the burbs.

305 Village Parkway NE 678-766-1500

LC likes martinis, or shall I say, he likes vodka shaken with olive juice served in a martini glass, because we all know a real martini is made with gin.

I like real martinis. Bombay Sapphire, dry, straight up, with 3 olives. Either way, the only place in town that serves a martini properly is The Highland Tap, a subterranean man-cave in the Virginia Highlands. They chill the glass with ice, fill a cognac glass with ice and seltzer, then shake up a double and pour a small amount into the chilled glass, the rest of it into a tiny carafe, which is then placed into the icy seltzer so it remains ice cold while you sip it. Classy.

A martini craving is what generally draws me to The Highland Tap. I wanted to introduce LC to the perfect martini, but we were hungry too, so we decided to snag a booth and share some appetizers and a thick, juicy steak.

We started off with an appetizer of two roasted scallops served over candied collards….just enough to whet our appetites.

Fried calamari or spinach artichoke dip? Both are menu staples throughout the U.S. since the early ’90′s, neither intrigues me. When presented with the choice, however, I went with the calamari. Flash fried with onions and peppers and drizzled with a generic “spicy” Asian glaze, Highland Tap’s plate of squid was neither greasy nor chewy despite its ubiquitous appeal.

LC and I chose a petite filet, medium-rare, with a side of truffled mac ‘n’ cheese. Lately, we’ve been addicted to mac ‘n’ cheese, including the childishly pedestrian microwaveable Kraft variety. But the homemade kind is always preferable, baked until the cheese is slightly browned with crispy breadcrumbs on top. Highland Tap serves a solid rendition, I’m assuming with a drizzle of truffle oil…good stuff.

But first our server delivered a side salad and bread. The Highland Tap has served the same dark brown mini loaves of bread since I can remember. Warm and soft…sounds better than it tastes. I’d prefer crusty white ciabatta any day. Salad was fresh and lively, jazzed up with a citrusy vinaigrette.

Our steak was well-seasoned and perfectly cooked. Sections of sweet caramelized onion accompanied the meat. A second martini was the perfect dessert….straight up.

1026 N. Highland Avenue 404-875-3673

Having dined and enjoyed some cocktails at Grace 17.20, I was ready to call it an early evening. But the guys had other ideas. JH, who orchestrated the recent PGA Championship at the Atlanta Athletic Club, wanted to drop by Viande Rouge for one more martini. I couldn’t complain since I’m friends with one of the partners and know the manager Brian as well.

The aroma of seared steaks mingling with rich sauces was intoxicating as we entered the dimly lit space. Their dinner service was nearly complete, leaving a few stragglers at the intimate bar. We joined them and ordered three martinis, two “vodka martinis” and one genuine, full-blooded Bombay Sapphire martini for me.

Brian appeared, all dapper in a suit, and we said our hellos. His generous offer of a complimentary Grand Marnier souffle (that he jokingly pronounced soo’ full) would not be turned away. We polished off our first round of martinis as we waited for dessert.

When it arrived, our server/bartender poked a hole in the top with the back of a spoon, then proceeded to slowly pour a little glass of molten creme Anglaise into the center. Three spoons dug in, each bite a combination of crispy crust, airy souffle, and creamy vanilla sauce. Texturally awesome, but I’m not a big fan of citrus in sweets, so I would have preferred a flavor other than orange.

Meanwhile, JH had his eye on the sweet thing across the bar, but she was with her parents.

Dessert was lovely but the next time I walk into Viande Rouge it’s gonna be all about the restaurant’s namesake…. a big bloody steak!

9810 Medlock Bridge Road #900, Duluth 770-623-4959